


tonight you're mine, baby

by bellawritess



Series: lashton prompts [13]
Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Based on a One Direction Song, Drinking, Flirting, M/M, Misunderstandings, Sexual Tension, Songfic, ashton's a philosophy major, briefly, i would hate both of them in real life, luke's a maths major
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellawritess/pseuds/bellawritess
Summary: Ashton likes to think he’s largely unflappable, but holyshitthis guy is hot.
Relationships: Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin, Michael Clifford/Calum Hood (background)
Series: lashton prompts [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2026498
Kudos: 7





	tonight you're mine, baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunsetmagnolia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmagnolia/gifts).



> **prompt:** does he know by 1d
> 
> [tumblr link!](https://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/post/626494843138539520/is-this-a-prompt-does-he-know-by-1d-has-a)
> 
> title from does he know by one direction lol
> 
> tw for alcohol

Ashton likes to think he’s largely unflappable, but holy _shit_ this guy is hot.

Usually Ashton doesn’t notice, but he’d happened to skim his eyes over the front door just as the most attractive person Ashton has objectively ever seen pushes through it, arm slung very unfortunately over some other bloke’s shoulders. Ashton can’t tear his eyes away. There’s a messy flop of golden curls on the guy’s head and he’s got these broad shoulders and legs that just go on _forever_ , and Ashton can’t breathe, honestly, he can’t.

“Oh, holy fuck,” Calum murmurs. Ashton starts; he’d forgotten about Calum for a moment. “Did you see that guy who just came in?”

“The blond? Yeah, holy _fuck_.”

“No, not him,” Calum says dismissively. “I mean — he’s fine, but I meant the other one. The friend. Bright red hair.” 

They’re both still watching as the pair make their way into the crowd of people at the party, both waving at folks left and right like they frequent this place.

“Huh,” Ashton says, staring after the blond. “Uh, I guess? Not really my type, but, um, go for it?”

“I don’t think I can _go for it_ ,” Calum says dryly, as the redhead smacks a sloppy kiss to the blond’s cheek and then disappears among the people. 

Ashton sighs loudly. “Fucking hell. _All_ the good ones.”

“I’ll fucking drink to that,” Calum says, and indeed does drink to that. In fact, he finishes his drink to that, and then says, “Okay, I’m gonna go get more alcohol and pretend I’m not thinking about that red-haired guy,” and vanishes before Ashton can ask Calum to grab him another drink too.

Ashton leans against the wall, letting the energy of the party wash over him, all the terrible music and loud chatter and bad dancing. Not to mention the lingering scent of weed. 

Caught up and eyes unfocused, he doesn’t really notice the hot blond guy turn until they’ve locked gazes. Ashton’s eyes widen and he quickly looks elsewhere, but when he sneaks a look back, the blond guy is ducking his head. His cheeks are flushed, and unless he’s managed to get wasted in the time since he’d come into the party, he’s blushing.

Well. Fuck. That’s no good.

And then the blond guy starts picking his way over towards Ashton.

_Fuck._

There’s no way to escape this without being rude. Ashton could act disinterested, maybe, but honestly he’s not sure he’s that good of an actor. Closer up, Ashton can see the piercing blue of hot blond guy’s eyes and — his cheeks are _shimmering_ , and so are his eyes. He’s wearing makeup. _Fuck,_ fuck, fuck, okay. Fuck.

“Hi,” says hot blond guy, with a broad grin. “Any particular reason you were staring at me?”

“I wasn’t,” Ashton blurts out.  
“I didn’t say I minded,” hot blond guy says, smirking. “I’m Luke.”

Ashton grasps for something to say, and then realizes the polite thing would be to introduce himself. “Ashton.”

“Ashton,” Luke says appreciatively, and Ashton wants him to repeat just that forever, just say Ashton’s name until he’s forgotten how to say anything else. It sounds like a song when it rolls off Luke’s tongue. “Nice to meet you, Ashton.”

“You too,” Ashton says. His mouth feels dry. How do you hold a conversation? What’s an appropriate thing to ask? _Hey, could you maybe go spend time in a room where I can’t see you? I think you’re really hot but I don’t want to piss off your boyfriend because he looks metal as fuck._

“What are you studying?” Luke asks.

Studying. Studying? _Because college,_ Ashton’s brain helpfully supplies. “Oh,” he says. “Uh, philosophy.”

“Fuck,” Luke says, eyebrows raised. “That’s a major for sure.”

“I like it.”

“You’d have to, to major in it,” Luke says. “‘S just inane chatter to me, but to each their own, I guess.”

“It’s not —” Ashton bites down on his incensed comment in defense of philosophy, because Luke looks like he’s joking. “Uh, what about you?”

“Maths,” Luke says. “Something logical, that has concrete answers.”

“God, but at what cost?”

Luke laughs. It fills the room. “You’re not one to judge my major, Mr. Socrates.”

“That’s Your Majesty Socrates to you.”

Luke bows exaggeratedly. “Sorry, of course, Your Majesty Socrates.” Heat pools in Ashton’s stomach. 

This is bad. This is really, really not good, because any minute now, Ashton’s going to say something terrible like _will you come back to my room with me?_ or _does your boyfriend know you’re talking to me?_ or something like that, and everything will be in shambles. Ashton should cut this off right now. 

“Do you want a drink?” is what he says instead, like a fucking moron.

Luke smiles lightly. “Tempted to take you up on that,” he says, “but no, Michael’s getting me one.” He glances over his shoulder. “Or at least he _should_ be.”

“Michael?” 

“Hey!” As if summoned, the red-haired guy from before materializes, throwing his arm over Luke’s shoulder and handing him a red solo cup. “Drink up, young padawan.”

“You’re a fucking nerd,” Luke says, with so much fondness that Ashton feels violently like he’s witnessing a private moment. To Ashton, Luke gestures to the guy who presumably is Michael and says, “Michael.”

“Michael! That’s me,” Michael announces loudly, grinning. “Who’s this?”

“Ashton,” Luke says before Ashton can answer. “He’s a philosophy major.”

“Holy shit, man,” Michael says, with a look of pure disgust. “ _How._ ”

“That’s what I wondered.”

“I like it,” Ashton says again, wondering if he’s really going to have to defend philosophy as an area of study tonight, at this party he’s increasingly thinking he shouldn’t have come to. “Anyway, Luke’s a maths major, so I don’t really think I deserve to be judged.”

“Please, I know that,” Michael says, rolling his eyes. “Luke’s the absolute worst. You know he got a tattoo of the quadratic formula without telling anyone? Not even because of any fucking sentiment. He just _likes the quadratic formula._ ”

“I like to sing the song!” Luke protests weakly, while Ashton snorts a laugh. Before he can ask — or refrain from asking — to see it, Michael is pulling at the collar of Luke’s shirt until it dips enough for Ashton to glimpse what is most decidedly the quadratic formula in black ink. Ashton’s breath catches in his throat.

“And he has the nerve to call _me_ a nerd,” Michael grumbles, releasing Luke’s collar but resting his hand instead on Luke’s shoulder. 

“Sounds like you guys know each other really well,” Ashton says, hating himself.

Luke nods. “Unfortunately.”

Michael elbows Luke. “Hey, fuck you. You love that I know everything about you. That’s what makes us so good.”

“I love that you blast Stacy’s Mom to wake me up every morning because I had _one_ two-week obsession with it freshman year?” Luke says, dry.

“Yes you do,” Michael says, smirking. “I hear you singing it under your breath when you think I have headphones in. Don’t think I don’t know.”

“You’re a piece of shit,” Luke says threateningly, and Michael giggles.

Ashton wonders if there’s a sly way to flee this situation.

“Hey!” Oh, thank fucking God. Calum. Ashton turns, relieved, but Calum’s not looking at him; he’s looking at Michael, and looking affronted. “What happened to _back in a sec_?”

“Oh, fuck, sorry,” Michael says. “Had to get Luke his drink and then I got caught up.”

“Wait,” Ashton says, looking between Calum and Michael. “Cal?”

Calum looks at Ashton and then sees Luke, and his mouth curves into a big smile. He approaches Ashton and whispers in his ear, “They’re not boyfriends! Shoot your shot!”

“What do you mean they’re not boyfriends,” Ashton whispers through gritted teeth.

“Exactly that,” Calum whispers back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go seduce the hell out of Michael, although I will give you the room if you work it out with Luke.” Calum kisses his cheek and then whirls away, and Michael gives a little wave as they head deeper into the party.

Ashton turns to Luke, though he’s not sure what he’ll say, but Luke is just watching Calum. “Your boyfriend?” Luke asks, a steely edge to his voice.

“No!” Ashton almost shouts. Luke looks surprised. “No, holy fuck, Calum? Just my roommate. And, like, best friend, but — God, no.”

“Oh,” Luke says, and smiles. “Good.”

“And Michael’s not your boyfriend?” Ashton says carefully. Luke makes a face like he’s just swallowed something very sour.

“I’d rather kiss a monkey than Michael,” he says flatly. “I mean, I love him, but no way.”

“Huh,” Ashton says, and watches as Luke takes a long drink from his cup, Adam’s apple bobbing. He traces the column of Luke’s throat with his gaze and then keeps going, giving Luke a full once-over. When he looks back up, Luke is watching him.

“So there _was_ a reason you were staring,” Luke says lightly. His eyes give him away, though, intense and fiery, like a challenge he’s waiting to issue.

Ashton swallows. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Oh, come on,” Luke says, edging closer with a smirk curling the corners of his mouth. Ashton watches him swipe his tongue over his lips and wonders if it’s possible to suffer a heart attack at the ripe age of twenty-one. “Game’s up, Ashton. Cards on the table.”

“I don’t play poker.”

“There are better ways to reject someone’s advances,” Luke says calmly.

Ashton wonders why he’s the world’s biggest dumbass. “I’m not rejecting your advances.”

“Good,” Luke says, so close now that Ashton can feel his breath, can practically taste the awful beer in Luke’s cup. “Your place or mine?”

“Mine,” Ashton breathes, and Luke grins, absolutely filthy and gorgeous.

“Lead the way.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading <3 i'm on tumblr [@clumsyclifford](http://clumsyclifford.tumblr.com/) so come say hey!


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